


Trust Exercise

by Ididntsignupforthisshit (myhamartia)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blindfolds, Kisses, M/M, Trust exercises, yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8353477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myhamartia/pseuds/Ididntsignupforthisshit
Summary: In which Keith deals with the aftermath of not trusting one of Lance's mission reports and getting himself put in the Galran slammer.
Or: Trust exercises ft. Blindfolds





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Penny_Candy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny_Candy/gifts).



> Yo, y'all want an incoherent piece of writing ft. KLance??  
> That's cool, it's cool. I'm gonna give it to you, anyway.

    Keith blinked under the dark fabric, his eyelashes fluttering uncomfortably against it. He didn’t close his eyes, even if he knew that he wouldn’t get his sight back until after the training exercise was done and they had completed their objective.

    He hadn’t liked it in the least bit. After a recent fumble in a mission concerning Keith and his, in Coran’s words, “inability to trust his teammates” Allura had instructed that Team Bonding and Trust exercises were in order. He didn’t even screw up that badly; it was more cautionary than anything had been. Lance had reported something and Keith looked back to double check if the information was correct. Well, long story short Keith’s cautionary measures bought him time in a Galra brig, sitting defenseless as he waited for the Paladins to come and rescue him.

Allura was livid.

    Thus, why he was put smack dab in the training room, a heavy blindfold over his eyes with Lance  _ somewhere _ in the room, waiting for Allura’s word to start on the exercise. Keith could see the barest of light trying to seep in between the fibers of the fabric, but nothing beyond just a hint that it was truly there.

    Through Keith’s years of knowing Lance (three, if Coran’s calculations were right, and it really was the year 2123 on Earth), he knew he could trust him. Their team bonds were strong, they all knew that. It was just… sometimes Lance fumbles. He fumbled when he took Keith aside one day, just to clarify that they were actually friends, that they were  _ good _ and not just  _ surviving _ their relationship together. He fumbled when he accidentally shouted over the comms that he liked Keith in  _ that way _ , the way elementary students giggled about their friends  _ like-liking _ someone. He fumbled when Keith later told him he felt the same way.

    He fumbled throughout their budding relationship, he fumbled about things  _ not _ having to do with Keith. He once fumbled on the castle-ship’s helm (he tried to lean his elbow on the console, looking suave) when he put out a beacon that summoned a Galra scout - and later, a battleship - to them.

    It wasn’t that Keith didn’t trust Lance. It was just a precautionary measure that he’d taken to putting in place, checking over things. He equaled it to looking after everyone’s six. Apparently, this is not how Allura saw it, as evident at how his ears twitched, hearing the buzz of the intercom above as the Princess signaled Lance to begin.

    “You go it, Princess!” Lance shouted back. Keith could see him sending a thumbs up to her in his mind’s eye, but he didn’t move much than a slight turn of his head toward Lance’s voice. It was instinctive, really, turning towards Lance’s voice in the dark world he was put into. With his sight taken away, his other senses took light, becoming more pronounced. If he concentrated, he could hear Lance’s soft breath fanning out a bit off to his right. He could feel the ventilated air on his skin, tousling small strands of his hair until he fought the urge to brush them back or puff them back with a breath.

    “Okay,” Lance muttered. There was the little click of a datapad, along with the click of a tongue repeatedly. “Computer, start simulation code 7, level one.”

    Keith frowned lightly at the words. “Level one?” he questioned. Surely he could take something with a bit more power behind the punch?

    There was a shuffle and suddenly Lance sounded a lot closer than he was a minute ago. “Yeah. I’m in charge of this exercise and you gotta go along with it.” He paused a second. “It’s about trust after all, right?”

    The frown deepened. There was a twinge in those words he hated; the tone was colored in hurt and his last words were clipped, guarded. Keith licked his lips and went to reply before the sound of a guardian dropping from the roof cut him off.

    “Pay attention!” Lance sang, his voice getting farther away as thick, heavy footsteps came towards him to his left. He turned towards them instantly, hands up and ready to defend himself. Er… sort of ready.

    The event lasted an hour and a half. Keith knew that Lance would be shadow boxing with the gladiator as he dictated every move as it happened to Keith. It would be up to Keith to decide how to dodge and counter. Lance would chip in his two bits and Keith would follow blindly, literally, as previously stated.

    Keith fumbled. A lot. He fumbled more in this exercise than he did his and Lance’s first time together in the dark of his room, no space, only words and breaths between them.

    And Keith knows that he fumbles, too. He fumbled with his fingers and worried words every time Lance landed himself in a healing pod for prolonged amounts of time. He fumbled through his thoughts and reasoning whenever Pidge asked him what he loved so much about Lance; he spit out a slew of things, just the littlest amount of them that hadn’t even covered the  _ base _ of his affection.

    He fumbled whenever the other Paladins broke him out of the tiny planet-side brig, torn between running out of the facility as fast as they could all get out and throwing his arms around Lance, relieved that they were back together and the team was now okay.

    So yes, Keith fumbled a lot, too. But he knew he’d be okay if Lance had his back, just as he had Lance’s.

    The exercise ended with the guardian dropping through the floor and Keith collapsing to the floor, out of breath and exhausted. His chest heaved and it took an effort he didn’t yet want to give to take the blindfold off. He left it on until his arms stopped feeling so heavy.

    Lance thudded up next to him, less out of breath than Keith, but still tired. He wasn’t the one dodging and countering hits, but he was sure as hell throwing them. Keith felt the training matt dip under lance as he knelt beside him. He heard the little noise that Lance’s hand made as it was placed on the vinyl beside Keith’s head and felt the presense over him as Lance leaned across his body. He felt the ghost of breath over his nose and cheekbones as Lance got into his space. Keith welcomed him, tipping his chin up the littlest bit, still sore and breathless.

    Lance met his lips, slow and soft and steady. There was no fumbling. There was practiced ease of Lance’s mouth against Keith’s. Keith couldn’t see him, but then again… he didn’t need to. 

**Author's Note:**

> See? Nonsense.  
> For Penny who got me thinking about blindfolds... I hope this is what you felt like. If not, I'm still playing with the idea, hahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
> 
> Please leave me a comment!  
> I'm also on tumblr @youngtiredandhungry , don't be afraid to message me!


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